Chapter Text
Jinah hates the dark.
Or she used to. Before she finds out that terrible things can and do happen in broad daylight—like monsters marching out of a gate to slaughter her friends in front of her eyes.
Jinah used to hate the dark, but right now, she cannot let go of it. Instead, she clings to it, trembling in fear and hiding her face in its depth as memories of blood and screams haunt her senses.
The darkness carries her gently, past grey buildings and rain-scented trees under a frowning sky. It doesn’t speak, doesn’t whisper assurances in her ear, but in its arms she feels the same security she always does when her brother is near.
When they arrive at the hospital, hands try to pry her away from it. She screams and resists, clinging even more tightly, more desperately, until it wraps itself around her and she is once more safe in the cradle of darkness. It carries her inside, into glaring brightness and sterile air, but in the dark, with her face turned away, she is safe.
She doesn’t let go of it even after they lay her down in a bed; after somebody comes in and puts a needle in her wrist; after somebody else arrives and heals the bruises on her face; after everyone departs and she is finally alone with it, safe in the humming silence.
Only then does she look at it. The darkness around her fingers is soft, gentle, tinged with the lightest blue. It’s the same blue that shines through its helmet when she looks up, at a pair of eyes, one slashed, one brightly burning. She isn’t afraid. Instead, for the first time since monsters burst in through her classroom door, she knows calm once more.
“My brother?” she whispers, her voice barely brushing the words.
The darkness never answers, but it touches the top of her head, the way her brother does sometimes.
Jinah breathes out and closes her eyes. In the dark, she is safe.
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